Fight (Book Three, the Hunted)

by Patti Larsen

  By him. Caught in her lies. He can see it in her face, the falseness of her weeping. Like a veneer of concern, a mask of caring. Lucy was always a great actress and knew exactly what to do to get what she wanted. She’s playing Reid just like always. Only this time it’s not just his heart she’s risking. It’s his life and those of the kids he left behind.

  Reid wants to trust his sister but he’s too far past his old life to let something like family ties keep him from what’s real.

  “Your boss did this to me.” He tests the truth of it on her and sees her flinch, her eyes flicker to the side before returning to the road.

  It’s a long time before she answers, her throat working as he watches her process lie after lie. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s life and death this time, that she is unable to come up with a falsehood to keep him from the truth. Whatever the reason, she discards them all and simply whispers, “Yes.”

  Reid collapses in on himself, his heart breaking all over again. “And you knew.”

  Again the internal dialogue ending in the softest, “Yes.”

  “Lucy,” he says, ready to kill her if he has to, “we have to get help.”

  She nods once. “I know,” she says. “That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

  She manages that lie at least. And he knows she is lying, sees it clearly now, wonders if his sister has ever told the truth in her entire life. The car slows, Reid tenses, sees a truck stop sign ahead, lights, a low building. He could open the door, throw himself out, trust to his new power and the control over his body, but he can’t bring himself to do it. All of the fight is gone from him in the face of what he knows.

  His own sister. His own flesh and blood. Lucy did this to him.

  It’s enough to hold him still until she parks the car and turns off the ignition. She sits there for a long time in the quiet, hands fiddling with the keys, swallowing over and over again.

  “We have to go,” she says, reaching for her door and he knows it wasn’t indecision that held her beside him but the fear that he would kill her for what she has done.

  Reid doesn’t bother trying to stop her. And when his door is wrenched open and large hands grab him and lift him free of the car, he lets them. Looks into a pair of dark brown eyes and hears a familiar voice say, “Well, lookit here now. Guess luck was on your side, kiddo.”

  One of the men, from the van. Big, bulky, solid. It’s the first time Reid’s seen him but his mind remembers.

  “Next time I’ll kick your head in, asshole,” Reid says in his calmest voice.

  The man flinches. Drops Reid on his feet and gives him a quick pat down. Finds the precious knife. Reid’s regret about losing it is deeper than his disappointment at his sister. Maybe in his heart he always knew. Or he’s just in shock. Either way, Reid wants the knife back, the memory of the mine maze tied tightly to it.

  Retrieving his knife isn’t likely to happen. The big guard finishes his exploration of Reid’s clothes and gives him a shove. “Get moving, you.”

  Reid abandons his humanity in that moment, disowning his sister at the same time. His hyper senses snap back into place as he looks around. The only thing he cares about is surviving, escaping again and freeing his friends. To do that he has to pay attention.

  The place is pretty much abandoned, only a few cars out front. But the low building is lit up, a flashing neon sign welcoming him to “Angie’s Roadhouse.” Reid feels better the moment he realizes he can escape at any time. But there are things he wants to know and a man he hopes to meet inside.

  Instead of fighting back, Reid follows the tall blonde woman he used to love into the bar, her boss’s bully trailing along behind him.

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  Reid’s sharp vision immediately adjusts to the low light inside the roadhouse. He pays close attention to everything around him, senses wide open. The air tastes like greasy food and cigar tobacco, and someone nearby has day old body odor barely masked by deodorant. The air feels heavy and thick, humidity level high. Murmuring voices come from the far side of the bar and an old, beat up booth surrounded by 50’s memorabilia. Through a haze of smoke, Reid sees his target seated casually at the table. He’s not alone.

  Lucy slides into the seat next to her boss on his right, not looking up or making a sound as one suited arm drops around her shoulders. Reid ignores her, unimpressed with Syracuse but refusing to underestimate the man or the pair of guards who flank his table, shoulders as broad as a doorway.

  A pair of gold and diamond rings flash from chubby fingers as the large man draws on his thick cigar. His dark eyes glow behind the flaring ember on the end, disappearing for a moment in another puff of aromatic smoke. The smell is making Reid sick but he doesn’t dare let go of his hyper senses, not yet.

  Syracuse flashes Reid a smile, big teeth dazzling white, his lips pulling back so far the man’s chubby cheeks dimple. A tiny diamond glitters from his left canine. But there is no good will in his face, or in the way his hand tightens on Lucy.

  “Well, well,” Syracuse says in a voice like melted honey. “So this is Reid.”

  Reid doesn’t move or so much as blink. He just glares at Syracuse until the man’s smile fades.

  “Lucy’s told me so much about you.” The cigar hand drops, resting on the swell of the man’s belly, expensive suit coat open to his white shirt and bright gold tie. “We’ve all been dying to meet you, haven’t we?”

  The bullies laugh, but only just. It’s not much of a joke. Still, Reid holds off. He can’t let this bastard get to him. It helps to imagine the man lying across the table, his guts hanging down to the floor, blood pooling while he begs for his life.

  Syracuse’s laugh drops off like a tightened faucet, Reid is sure in reaction to the expression on his face. “You and I, we got off to a bad start, kid, what with the kidnapping and all. A bad start, yes indeed. But now that you’re out… well, maybe there are things we can do for each other.”

  Reid pulls his gaze from the big man and focuses on his sister. He doesn’t care about Syracuse all of a sudden. This man is an opportunist, compassionless and untrustworthy. All things Reid has known about Lucy but never believed applied to her. And in that moment, standing there with his life in the balance, he needs to know the truth from her.

  “Why?” His voice stays steady, he’s proud of that. As emotionless as the best of them. “Lucy, just tell me why.”

  She won’t look up, turns her face away even. When Syracuse laughs this time he leans forward, wide stomach pressing into the edge of the table so hard the base of it groans in protest. “Money, naturally.” He holds out the cigar, examines it. “Money can buy anything, kid. As long as the dollar figure matches the effort.” Syracuse wraps his thick lips around the end of his smoke and draws deeply. “That’s why you’re here with me, and not back at the compound with the rest of the kids.”

  Reid waits, wonders. How much does this man know? And how did he find out Reid was free? He doesn’t have long to wait before Syracuse opens his big mouth again.

  “They told me, the minute you got out. I thought to myself, Frankie, here’s a prime opportunity to do a little business.” He taps the ash from the end of his cigar and leans back again. “I figure any kid who’s able to break out of that place and not get caught… well, he’s the kind of kid I want working for me. Right, boys?”

  There is a chorus of agreement about as sincere as the man’s smile.

  “What do you want in return?” There’s always a price. And Reid is starting to think Syracuse knows way less than he would like to. No wonder Reid is standing here in front of the man instead of already on his way back to the compound.

  “Pretty simple. Just tell me everything you know about them trained monkeys the colonel is keeping in that place.”

  Reid is momentarily confused. Monkeys? When he makes the connection, he laughs himself. The hunters.

  “Or else what?” Reid knows the answer to that.

  “Well
now,” Syracuse says around a mouthful of smoke, “I guess I’ll have to be bringing you back to the colonel, won’t I? For the reward.”

  Even if Reid was that naive and foolishly trusted the man, he still wouldn’t tell him. There’s no way Syracuse will keep any kind of deal they make.

  He’s already planning his escape when the bully behind him steps up. Reid knows he can take him, easily. Even feels his confidence stay solid when the two flanking Syracuse pull guns and point them at him. Reid’s plan flutters when the point of a gun is jammed in his back but he is still considering it when Syracuse lifts one big hand and wraps it around Lucy’s neck.

  “Try it, kid,” the man says, one hand casually holding his cigar while the other slowly chokes Reid’s sister. “You may be pissed at her, but blood is thicker than water, isn’t it?”

  Lucy doesn’t fight, her face turning very red, eyes finally lifting to Reid’s. He holds his heart firm against her, refusing to care even when tears well in her eyes and spill over her cheeks. But when she finally reaches up with both hands and tries to pull Syracuse’s death grip away, Reid’s resolve crumbles.

  The man is right. No matter what she’s done, Lucy is his sister and he’s the one who gets to punish her for it, not Syracuse. Besides, his father’s voice still chides him, telling him to look out for her, and that’s one voice he can’t ignore.

  Reid goes with them, quietly and without a struggle, finding himself in the back seat of a big, black SUV, sandwiched between two bullies. The third jumps in the driver’s seat with Syracuse on the passenger side, Lucy in his lap, his fingers still around her neck. Her head rests on his shoulder, eyes flat and glassy as she just lays there, a mannequin, a toy, like she’s trying to pretend none of this is happening.

  Reid wants to slap her but can’t reach and is pretty sure his guards wouldn’t let him anyway. Doesn’t keep him from imagining it, though. Those thoughts keep his anger simmering all the way back, enough that he is able to maintain his hold on his hyper senses.

  The drive is quick and mostly silent, punctuated occasionally by phone calls that Syracuse answers on his shiny smart phone. Most of the conversations are trivial, but Reid learns a great deal that the man would probably prefer he didn’t. Like his extensive drug dealings, more human trafficking, arms sales. Reid files it all away, not sure how he can use it but knowing it may come in handy sometime.

  While he listens, Reid considers how he can possibly get possession of the phone but before he can come up with any kind of a plan that doesn’t involve getting both him and Lucy killed, they are pulling into the compound.

  Reid’s stomach clenches, the old familiar anger and fear combo a double punch to his gut. He holds still when the bullies get out, refusing to move, making them drag him physically from the truck, not helping in any way.

  He lands on his feet with a thud and looks up. Syracuse is staring into his eyes.

  “Last chance, champ. We could turn around right now. They’d never know you were here.”

  Reid gathers as much saliva as he can without alerting the man he’s doing it and spits it in his face.

  Syracuse howls in anger, backing off immediately, swiping at the wet assault. One of the bullies buries his fist in Reid’s stomach, doubling him over.

  But Syracuse puts a stop to it with a shouted, “No! Don’t touch him.” Reid pulls himself back upright, forcing himself to breathe, amazed at how quickly he’s recovering and really how little the punch hurt. He grins at Syracuse, all teeth and hatred. The man actually backs off a step.

  “Fine. Go back in there and get your ass killed.” He gestures to the two bullies flanking Reid. “Bring him.”

  They drag Reid around the side of the truck, right into the front flap of a large tent. He does his best to pay attention, to look at everything around him so he can somehow find a way out, so wrapped up in studying his surroundings he doesn’t realize until he is shoved forward who is waiting for him at the far end.

  The colonel. Marcus’s father. Reid stills, has a good look at the man. There’s a faint resemblance but Reid realizes right away Marcus must take after his Hispanic mother. The colonel is as white as they come, dirty blonde hair in a severe buzz cut, cold blue eyes deep set in a rim of squinted wrinkles. The man’s wide brow furrows down, shadowing his level stare as he looks down at Reid. He’s surprised to see a measure of admiration in the man’s face.

  “Got him for you, just like I promised.” Syracuse oozes forward, breaking the colonel’s stare. The big man’s face snaps around, broad jaw clenching as he glares at the fat man.

  “So I see.” The colonel then ignores Syracuse, looking back at Reid. “You’ve caused us a great deal of trouble, young man.”

  Reid wants to laugh in his face but can’t muster the motivation. “Glad to hear it.”

  That bit of rebellion is the best he can do.

  “Colonel Brackett,” Syracuse tries again.

  “You’re still here, Syracuse?” The soldier clamps his hands behind his back, whole body taut and tight with muscle, as though ready to attack at any moment. He reminds Reid of a hunter. If they were human, that is.

  Reid thinks Syracuse must be braver than he looks because he tries one of his oily smiles. “There’s one small matter. The reward?”

  The colonel’s expression doesn’t change, only his eyes flicker to the left. Another soldier steps forward, hands the fat man a plain yellow envelope.

  “As promised.”

  Syracuse paws through the cash, nodding. “Yes, yes, marvelous.”

  The colonel waits. Syracuse shuffles his feet. “Ah…”

  “What man, spit it out.” The colonel doesn’t like the dirty entrepreneur, it’s clear to Reid, and he wonders what forced this career military man in bed with so much evil. Unless, of course, he’s simply evil himself. Though Reid is having a hard time believing it. There just doesn’t seem to be that kind of taint around the man.

  Not that Reid’s been the best judge of character, though. He didn’t even see the weakness in his own sister.

  “I was hoping you’d thought more about what we discussed. My prices. Kids are getting harder to come by, the risks I’m taking go up every time I make a delivery.”

  Again the jaw works, the eyes tighten. This man is evil though, Syracuse. Reid is repulsed by him even further if that is possible and feels the same reaction from the big soldier.

  Colonel Brackett turns to the guard by his side and gestures at Reid.

  “House him for now,” he says, “while I deal with this business.” His piercing eyes meet Reid’s again. “And then we’ll talk, you and I.”

  Reid is led out of the tent, surrounded by soldiers, and begins his surveillance again. Any chance he might have to escape is countered by the circle of six soldiers with guns pointed at him. The colonel obviously has no intention of letting Reid escape. Still, he takes the chance to look around, but doesn’t see much. The walk is short, between the tent and a steel building, all the way to the back. Reid can see the fence, feel the hum of electricity, before he is forced into the shed, the door slammed shut behind him.

  It feels like a cell, dark and dank, only a bit of light coming in from the tiny window face height at the door, blocked by thick steel bars. The odor of urine and vomit is strong, so much so Reid finally has to release his hyper senses or let his own bile join what’s here. Reid wonders who the last prisoner was, maybe some disobedient soldier who got drunk on the job.

  Somehow Reid is pretty sure if one of the colonel’s men made that kind of mistake Brackett would just shoot him rather than lock him up.

  Reid is having a tough time reconciling the Marcus he knows with the man who raised him and wonders what Marcus did to disappoint his father so much he was willing to throw him to the hunters. Because Reid can tell already the colonel doesn’t take disappointment well. The man’s seeming admiration for Reid’s escape may be something he can use to get information or some kind of leniency. It’s a long shot but Reid
is willing to use any advantage, real or imagined.

  He returns to cataloging what he has access to in case he needs a quick attack plan. There is a small steel cot with an old and musty mattress on it, and a metal bucket for waste. Otherwise the cell is empty. Not much in the way of weapons. The bucket might serve but the cot is bolted down. Reid perches on the edge of the bed, trying to make a plan and failing over and over again.

  “Reid.” Her voice is very low but he hears her clearly, sees her shadow pass over the light coming through the barred window at the door. He ignores her at first, not caring what she has to say, until a jab of hope appears. Maybe she’s had a change of heart. Is willing to let him out. The fighter in him tells him he’s an idiot for believing such fairy tales but doesn’t hold him back when Reid goes to the window and looks out.

  Lucy stares in at him. She is hugging herself and trembling. He can see the dark bruises forming on the flawless skin of her neck. “I’m sorry, little brother,” she whispers. “But they didn’t give me a choice. You don’t know what it was like out there.” She shudders. “I had no money, the life insurance was gone to pay for the funerals. Mom and Dad had so much debt. I was all alone.” Fat tears of self-pity trickle down her face. “When I met Mr. Syracuse, it was like a dream come true. I was working at one of his clubs, and he noticed me. Me! Told me he could make me a star.” She tries a smile. “You know Mom always said I should be an actress.”

  Reid can’t speak. He can only witness this rambling excuse for murdering her only family, her last attempt to make him understand why she is more important than him. “When he found out about you, he was so excited. He got all the paperwork done, had me pick you up the next day. I didn’t think it could happen so fast but Mr. Syracuse, he has connections.” She snuffles, wipes at her nose with her sleeve, delicately. “When I found out where they took you… Reid, I begged him to bring you back. But he would have killed me.” Her long lashes flutter at him. “You saw, you saw him choke me.”